Assuming my legs don't fall off between now and March 17, I'm going to run a marathon. Researchers currently are calculating the probability of my legs falling off; I'll get back to you when I know. But seriously... This just hit me tonight, as I was counting miles -- miles completed during training (397) and miles to go (112). By Friday, my miles-to-go will be in the double digits. Crazy! It feels as though I've been anticipating this for so long, and now it's almost here and yet still 31 days away.
31 days is not very many, though, especially when you have a busy schedule. It has already been a bit harder to juggle schedules to get runs in this semester. I've done a bit of shuffling, woken up super early some mornings, and passed on quite a bit of sleep. That's not ideal, but I'm getting the miles in. I'm already working on a post explaining why your first year of graduate school is both the best and worst time to train for a marathon.
After my internship today I hit the streets for 6 miles at an average 8:34 pace, which was created mostly by a very fast last mile in the 7's. I was scheduled for 5, but I felt pretty good and the route I chose mid-run was going to take me over the limit. As I approached my last intersection, I saw I'd reach my normal stopping point at about 5.75. I'm a stickler for all things even, straight lines and symmetry, so I knew I could get 6. (Further evidence of this neurosis is that, when gas did not cost $1 million per gallon, I used to top off such that the total cost was rounded to a tenth, rather than one-hundredth. Yup. I'm over that now, though.)
Tomorrow I'm scheduled for 8. I don't know where it's going to fit, but it'll go somewhere.